


Eight days of Wincest

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, challenge: 8 days of wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was happy with Jess and he had left his family behind. He kept telling himself it was because of his dad but it was a lot more complicated than that. (All dialogue taken from the pilot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reunion - season 1

**Author's Note:**

> A series of 8 drabbles spanning the 8 seasons of Supernatural, written for [The Eight Days of Wincest Challenge on samdean_otp](http://samdean-otp.livejournal.com/484628.html)

Sam woke with a start.

He was convinced he had heard a crash downstairs and, although it was now the first of November, Halloween was still fresh in his mind.

There was someone in his apartment but, to Sam’s relief, that someone was human. He thought he had the jump on his intruder but before he knew it he was flat on his back and strong arms were holding him down.

The scent of leather and old spice was strong in his nostrils and he stopped struggling instantly, his hands suddenly itching to hug rather than punch, deep-rooted feelings flooding through his veins, his heart beat quickening, his cock responding guiltily.

“Easy tiger,” his brother spoke softly, his hands tightening around Sam’s wrists.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice shook as he spoke his brother’s name. “You scared the crap out of me.”

Dean laughed then and Sam felt the rumble right down to his toes.

“That’s cause you’re out of practice.”

Sam’s mouth was dry, Jess was in their bed still sleeping but it didn’t matter, he wanted and he needed; four years washed away in one brief minute. He grabbed Dean’s arms and flipped him, pressing his body down into his brother’s, letting Dean know that his feelings hadn’t changed.

Dean was already hard, Sam felt it through the thin sleep pants he was wearing and he groaned, tensing for a moment as Dean’s arms came up and around him, his brother’s breath hot on his neck.

“Or not . . . .” Dean sounded breathless, needy and Sam wanted, God how he wanted. “Get off of me.”

Sam got to his feet, uncomfortable, aroused, guilty.

“What are you doin' here?” He asked, his heart hoping for one answer, his head for another.

“I was looking for a beer,” Dean’s voice was shaky and it was so obvious he was lying. Sam moved towards him then, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him in, knowing he was going to kiss him, get his mouth on his brother, drag them down into sin again, a sin he had tried, desperately, to escape, to avoid.

Dean was frozen in place and Sam knew, knew he wanted it just as much, knew that their relationship hadn’t changed despite the years and miles between them. He swallowed and pulled Dean closer, closer, eyes closing, cock so hard it almost hurt him.

“Sam?”

It was Jess’s voice and Dean was gone from him so fast he felt dizzy with it.

He turned, head spinning, mouth full of lies, wanting Jess to just go away, needing his brother so much it was painful.

“Hey Dean – this is my girlfriend, Jessica.” His throat was thick, the words coming out of his mouth hollow. He saw Dean’s smirk, remembered his charm with the ladies and he felt a hard stab of jealousy, a sudden resentment, not sure if it was for Jess or for Dean.

Jess’s eyes lit up and she put her head to one side, oblivious of the heat between the two of them, the pull, the need that would never go away.

“Wait – your brother, Dean?”

Sam nodded, watching as Dean turned on the charm, bright eyes and wide grin. 

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.”

Sam tried to keep his expression blank; he saw Jess blush a little. He knew – first hand – how charismatic his brother could be and he couldn’t help the little throb of pride he felt.

Even before Jess responded Sam knew that his life here might be over; he had no idea why Dean had come, what he wanted but he knew that Dean hadn’t driven all this way just to charm Jess and exchange banal conversation. He knew before the night was out he would be packing his bags and driving away with his brother. Law school, Jess, his _awesome Lsat victory_ all those things would fade into nothingness because by tomorrow Sam was certain he was going to be back in his brother’s car, his brother’s life, his brother’s bed.

He glanced at Dean again, caught his eye, tried to tell him in one glance just how much he had missed him, just how much he still wanted him.

“Jess,” he said and he wondered if she heard the apology in his voice, the regret, the effort he was making not to hurt her. “Excuse us, we have to go outside.”

And with those few words Sam Winchester sealed his fate.


	2. Temptation - season 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean didn’t think Sam still wanted him that way – he was wrong.

After what had happened with Jess, Dean had been surprised that Sam had stayed with him.

They made a pretty good team and, here they were, nearly a year down the line, still hunting the demon, still determined to kill him, to get their revenge.

Dean had seen the longing in Sam’s eyes; it had shocked him, left him confused, his own needs still as strong as they had always been. He hadn’t ever intended this to happen, never intended to fall in love with his baby brother, to want him in every single way that was bad and wrong.

_They had had an odd upbringing by any standards. Always traveling, never being in one place long enough to put down roots or to make friends. Dean knew Sam was lonely, that Sam wanted normality but he also knew, realistically, that Sam would never have what he wanted, that dad would never let them settle, that he would drive them on to the next place and the next, until he had found his wife’s murderer._

_Dean had taught Sam everything; how to tie his shoes, how to shave, how to shoot a gun and use a knife. Dean also taught Sam about the birds and the bees, dad was always away and never had the time or inclination to give his younger son life lessons._

_The thing Dean never expected was that he would end up teaching Sam physically. That he would be the one to put his hands on his brother’s cock, that he would be the one to bring Sam to completion, to hold him tight and give him pleasure. It wasn’t right, Dean knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t stop. Sam needed him and he was determined to always be there_.

Now here they were at the Pierpont Inn in Cornwall, Connecticut, Sam drunk off his ass, begging Dean to kill him if he turned evil, wanting Dean to promise things that he couldn’t, wouldn’t. Not only that, but Sam was holding him, holding his face intimately, lips so close to his own that in one moment they would be kissing. Sam was drunk but Dean was sober enough to keep him at arm’s length even though his cock was aching through his jeans, even though Sam clearly wanted him, needed him.

Dean put his brother to bed, guilt stabbing him, his mind full of the things dad had told him, that dad had asked of him. He wondered what dad would have thought if he had known about them, about their midnight trysts, about the fact they snuggled together in those too small motel beds and brought each other off.

Sam was older now, grieving for his girlfriend, but Dean still desired him and it was obvious Sam still coveted Dean. They hadn’t _been intimate_ since before Sam left for Stanford but that didn’t mean they didn’t want to be.

There was so much still to do; they needed to find out about these _special children_ , needed to know why Sam had been immune to the Croatoan virus, needed to find the demon and get some sort of closure. 

They couldn’t give into their feelings right now, it wasn’t the right time, maybe never would be but it didn’t stop Dean staring down at his sleeping brother, didn’t stop Dean running a hand through that soft chestnut hair, didn’t stop Dean having stupid, sappy, _chick flick_ thoughts about Sammy.

It was temptation pure and simple and Dean knew, one day, they would give into their urges whatever the consequences. Now though, was neither the time nor place and Dean turned his back on Sam and went down to the bar.

He needed a drink.


	3. Forgotten - season 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

He wasn’t sure he could cope with another Tuesday.

Every time Dean died he was back in the loop and he was getting more and more out of control. He tried to explain, he did, and sometimes Dean believed him, sometimes Dean was more sympathetic than Sam deserved; a hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze of his thigh. Sometimes Dean was angry, sometimes he was pissed and sometimes he was his usual cocky sarcastic self. Didn’t matter ultimately cause Dean died every single fucking Tuesday and Sam had to watch.

Sam figured that if this was happening he would at least get something out of it; he figured this out on the 110th Tuesday, driven slightly mad, brain fried, all logic out of the window. He and Dean had been dancing around each other for months, months and now, now Sam had a chance to do something about it.

Dean had survived the day at least; it was early evening and the hotel room was dim, moonlight and a wavering bedside lamp the only light. Soft silver illuminated Dean’s face, making him look ethereally beautiful. They had been drinking whiskey and both were a little wasted, Dean much more than Sam, Sam making sure his glass was always filled, making sure Dean was relaxed, smiling stupidly.

“I know what you want.” Sam bent over him, throat tight, eyes stinging. “I know what you want, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes were fuzzy, his voice low. “And you want it too, Sammy.”

Sam forced a smile then, pushing Dean back on the bed and kissing him hard and fast. It was the first time for a very long time and he felt Dean trembling beneath him, felt the strength of Dean’s arms as he flipped them over and loomed on top of Sam, breath strong with whiskey, the scent of it overwhelming.

“Please, Dean.” Sam wasn’t above begging. “Please.”

Time and space dropped away and in the dark warmth of their motel room it was easy to forget that they were brothers, that Dean was destined for hell. Sam let his brother strip him of his clothing, let Dean press kisses on his sternum, his mouth, the dip of his stomach. Strong fingers wrapped around his cock and he groaned, wanting more.

They had never done this before, never gone so far, but tomorrow Dean wouldn’t remember so it didn’t matter. They were living in the now, literally, and Sam could have what he had wanted for a long, long time.

Dean was inside of him, moving slow and easy. It hurt a little but the pain soon became pleasure. If not for the situation it might have almost been life affirming, Dean warm, passionate, alive.

Afterwards there might have been repercussions, there might have been regrets but Dean slipped on the discarded condom on his way to the shower and his skull split open on the edge of the closet and before Sam could even bring himself to feel guilty it was Tuesday again.

Dean didn’t remember but Sam did and it was the only thing that kept him going before Wednesday finally rolled around.


	4. Replaced - season 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean had eyes.

Back from hell and Dean could see that Sam had a lot to hide.

In truth Sam had been acting weird since Broward County, since before hell but now, now he was so hard to read that Dean felt he had lost the plot somehow.

He knew who to blame.

Ruby.

He hated her, was convinced that she had some strange hold over his brother. Okay, she had _saved his life_ while Dean was in hell but there was more to it than that. She controlled his brother, not just mentally but physically too, and it made him sick to think of the two of them together, made him sick to think that Ruby was in his place, that Ruby was the one who was comforting Sam, taking care of Sam. Ruby had become _big brother_.

She had chosen her new vessel well. 

Dean had no idea what the girl who once resided there was like. According to Sam, Ruby had chosen this body because it had belonged to a coma victim who had been _turned off_ and the vessel was, to all intents and purposes, empty. Dean didn’t know whether to believe this story or not but looking at Ruby now, looking deep into those sloe black eyes, he had his doubts.

Unlike the feisty blonde, this Ruby was a brunette, sallow skinned and whip chord thin, small breasts and no shape to speak of. She was attractive enough he guessed, particularly to his brother who had been drunk, lonely and desperate for a friend but there was something sly about her, something sneaky in the narrowing of her eyes, the wide mouthed smile, the obvious glances. Often he would catch her watching him and he knew that she wished he hadn’t gotten out of the pit, knew that if she could she would send him back there.

He missed Sam. 

Before hell their relationship had been good, had been heading in a totally new direction. The physical attraction between them was still there, still strong and Dean had wanted to take it further. He got the impression Sam wanted it too, after all Dean only had a year to live and if you were ever going to get some pleasure . . . .

It hadn’t happened though; there hadn’t been enough time but Dean still wanted it, still needed Sam like he needed air. In hell it had been Alistair’s favorite form of torture; demons with Sam’s face, black eyes above those exotic brows, those high boned cheeks, Sam’s mouth on him, Sam’s fingers ripping off his flesh. Now back topside, Dean felt as if he was still suffering, watching his brother squeeze the demon skank’s shoulder, seeing Ruby rubbing the back of his brother’s neck, standing at his side, grinning at Dean with a possessive smile, a smile Dean wanted to tear off her face.

He didn’t know what Ruby’s end game was, but he figured it couldn’t be good. Deep down he wanted to take Sam and run, hide away somewhere, give Sam what he had wanted before hell, give Sam his love, his devotion, everything he had.

But it was too late for that.

Dean had been replaced and he knew that it was all gonna end bloody.


	5. Lost - season 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's goodbye.

Tomorrow he’s gonna drink all the _goat juice_ he can and dive into the pit with Lucifer riding him.

Tonight he needs to hold on, to lie down next to Dean and give them both something to remember. There are tears, there are always tears, the two of them coming together and being forced apart. His whole life seems to have been full of reunion hugs, fierce fights and painful partings.

But this one, this one - there’s no coming back from.

Dean is shaking, he is trying to resist, sharp and cocky, beer in his hand but as sober as a fucking judge. There is that fear in his eyes, the fear that they are doing wrong, the fear that they shouldn’t be doing _this_ at all. Sam figures after all the sins he has committed in his life, incest is the least of his worries.

He has to do this, he has to do this to atone. He let the devil out of his cage so he has to be the one to shove him back in again. 

Dean watches him with hooded eyes as he strips off his shirts, the layers peeling away to leave him naked and vulnerable, giving everything now. This is not like Broward County. Dean will remember, he wants Dean to remember. Sure Dean will have Lisa and Ben, Dean will have a normal life and Sam wants this for him, wants his brother to be happy but, deep down, in his guilty mind, his hopeful heart he hopes Dean won’t forget him, hopes Dean will lie awake at night and think of this moment, the moment they gave in to their desires and needs.

Afterwards, sore and sated, he says the words he knows Dean both fears and longs for.

“I love you.”

Tomorrow he will be lost but tonight, tonight he is found.


	6. Need - season 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew something was wrong.

His baby brother has him pressed painfully against the wall.

His wrists burn where they are gripped tightly in Sam’s massive hands and his back arches as Sam presses his denim clad crotch firmly into Dean’s ass. Sam’s cock is like iron, hard and eager, Sam’s gasps of pleasure something Dean hasn’t heard before, Sam’s dirty talk something he never thought he would hear from his sibling.

“I’m gonna fuck you into next week,” Sam hisses and Dean tenses, aroused and scared all at once. “Get my big fat cock inside that tight ass, fuck you so hard you can taste me.”

Dean can’t control the full body shudder that Sam’s voice brings. He aches in all the wrong ways. Foolish, Sam was always the one _catching_ , Sam was the one that lay down and let Dean love him.

“Sammy I don’t think . . . ,” he began but Sam snarled, lifted one hand up and pressed it down over Dean’s mouth.

“Then don’t think,” Sam ground out, his cock rubbing over and over against Dean’s jeans, his other hand coming around to undo Dean’s belt with incredible dexterity, fingers wrapping around Dean’s erection and jacking it without finesse or rhythm, just enough to keep Dean on the edge, to keep him wanting it.

Dean swallowed hard; he knew Sam had been acting strange, that he hadn’t been acting much like _Sam_ but this, this was the proof, this wasn’t his brother, it couldn’t be. Sam had never operated like this, never spoke like this. Sam preferred tenderness to lust, gentleness to need. This was purely sexual, nothing more, nothing less. It was a simply Sam giving into his desires, his wants, Dean’s feelings just an inconvenience.

Dean should have shaken his head, pulled away, been the better man but as Sam began to prep him, whispered all the dirty things he was going to do to him, Dean just let him.

What else could he do?


	7. Seperation - season 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a flash Dean has gone and he is totally and utterly alone.

Crowley exits with a laugh.

All Sam can do is stare at the empty spot where his brother was standing only minutes ago. His throat hurts and his eyes burn but he can’t do a thing, can’t even cry. 

He is totally and utterly alone.

For a while he holes up in Rufus’s cabin. So many times in those first few days he wants to pick up his cell and call Bobby, Ellen, Kevin, anyone who might listen to him. They’ve gone, they’ve all gone but none of it matters, none of it matters because Dean’s gone too and it’s like a hole in the fabric of his universe, a hole that will just get bigger and bigger until it swallows him.

It isn’t like when Dean went to hell; he knew where his brother was then, knew that someday he would find a way to get him out. He had Ruby back then, someone to keep him sober, keep him focused. She might have turned out to be a lying, scheming bitch but she was there and his days and nights weren’t as silent as they are now.

He drinks; he drinks until he is blind with it and then he throws up and drinks again. He is a wreck, a stinking wasted wreck and he can’t cope, so dependent on is big brother for everything. He loves Dean (loved Dean), in so many ways. Dean had been the center of his world, his brother, his father, his mentor, his lover and without him there was no actual point to Sam’s existence.

He thinks he might kill himself and drive into a wall, after all there is no one to miss him.

Instead he hits a dog.


	8. Peace - season 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had failed in every way but this.

They had tried so hard but, ultimately, they had failed.

Dean had been right when, years ago, he had claimed that they were each other’s weakness, that every single monster, spirit, angel and demon knew it and wouldn’t hesitate to exploit it.

Sam had been so close to finishing, a hair’s breadth away from putting his bloody palm over Crowley’s mouth and finishing the trails. He hadn’t cared if he lived or died at that point, the gates to hell would be closed and there would be peace but, not for the first time, a Winchester chose his sibling over the world.

Now they faced a different landscape, a new set of challenges; demons still roamed free and angels walked the earth. Crowley was a permanent feature in their basement and Kevin lurked moodily around the bunker like a teenager on the most depressing Spring break ever. Dean was stoic and Sam was recovering and neither of them spoke about their life choices.

Now they loved openly; shared Dean’s _memory foam_ , snuggled together at night, huddled beneath the sheets naked and entwined. Of all the sins they had committed incest seemed a fairly small and insignificant one. It wasn’t as if they could have children.

“We sure ain’t the Benders,” Dean would joke as he stroked Sam to ecstasy. “I’ve not got any longing for long pig and don’t feel the urge to go and hunt some humans.”

Sam could only laugh then, his body shuddering as he came hot and heavy over his brother’s fingers. Dean often made ill-advised remarks like this during sex, stupid cracks about _Southern Comfort_ or _Squeal like a pig_. Sam was used to it by now. He didn’t much care what Dean said or did, they were in this together.

It had been eight long years since Dean had picked Sam up from Stanford, eight long years since Sam had left his normal life and gone back on the road with Dean. In those eight years they had endured separation after separation but they had always come back together again, their need for each other far stronger than their need for anyone (or anything) else.

Dean thought they had genuinely earned some rest; considered quitting hunting. The bunker had given them a permanent home, somewhere they could settle down. Sam thought Dean might want to be _the new Bobby_ but Garth had already filled that gap and Dean didn’t have the patience to research for hours, preferring to do the job himself rather than get someone else to do it. 

They would never quit, they would never stop. There was always something to hunt, always people to save. The world might subtly change but evil always changed along with it. There was no real escape for the Winchesters and deep down they knew it.

Sam was happy though; oddly content with his lot. Neither of them would ever make old bones but one would always follow the other and Sam was certain neither of them would ever be alone again.

They might not have given the world peace but they had given peace to each other. There wasn’t room for anyone else in their lives. Dean was his first love, his last love, his one and only. He might attempt to say it sometimes and Dean would shake his head and say ‘ _no chick flick moments Sammy_ but that didn’t matter.

The Winchester’s didn’t need words.


End file.
